A filthy room, derelict and grimy.  Used food containers and miscellaneous garbage is scattered on the floor.  Plastic billows in the windows, the only relief from the oppressing heat.  Plywood walls with graffiti from some local gang is splattered across the walls, randomly threatening some alternate gangs’ members.  In the corner, a small 2 chair table set.  On the table is a perfectly folded, clean set of clothing inside a thick clear plastic sack, zipped closed.  On one of the chairs is a backpack.  This corner of the room is so clean it sits there like an oasis in a desert of filth.  

A large blue tarp covers most of the rooms floor.  On it lays a woman, barely alive.  Surgical cuts seemingly random all over her body.  Blood is all around her, obvious smudges arc through it, evidence of her writhing.  She is naked, her blonde hair matted with dirt and blood, surrounds her like a halo.  Her face is perfect, she is beautiful and other than the smudge of black mascara under her eyes there isn’t a mark on her face.

She is too weak to fight any more as she struggles to hold on to consciousness, praying perhaps this last desperate attempt at anything just may free her.

He stands over her straddling her legs with his feet.  He stares down and revels in his ‘art’ work.  Pleased with himself.  His hair slightly curled in that somehow nondescript color of brown.  It hangs from his head and drips with his sweat.  His dull grey track suit is covered in blood and bits of flesh.  Some goo is new, and some is dried on from other adventures.  He worked hard and the evidence is below him.  In his right hand is a large knife, now dripping with her blood.  He steps to her left side and kneels beside her.  Terror in her large set eyes with hot tears that have already created lines down her face slowly fall, to rest beside her ears.

He gently strokes her hair with his left hand, somehow there is a look of love and adoration in his eyes.  He turns to look at her stomach and strokes her skin with his knife.  He curves his hand and points the tip just above her right hip, slowly dipping the blade into her flesh.  He pulls the steel across her abdomen to the other hip.  She moans trying to scream.  Both cold and hot the blade slices through her.  He turns his head and looks at her adoringly.  He puts down the knife and dips his hand inside her, his fingers finding her intestines he gently pulls them out of the hole he just created.  He loves the warm wet feel of them.  Like uncooked sausages just slightly less firm.  He pushes her organs back inside the hole.  A last quiet moan escapes her lips.  He knows she has only seconds left. 

This event for him is sexual and as such, he feels the hardness of his cock in his pants.  His brain is on fire with the knowledge of the release moments away. He stands, pulls down his pants and frees his flesh, gripping it in his blood-soaked hand.  Somehow her cries register as pleasure in his mind.  Each sound from her feels like a release.  He is sure that all he has done to her is erotic and it is making her cum.  He grunts while he pulls on himself.  Admiring his work.  It takes only seconds for his ejaculate to spurt out of his body.  He sprays it on her face.  He screams to the room; this one seems the best of them all.  His body jerks and contorts while the orgasm shoots through him like lightning.

Panting, he quickly shoves his flesh back inside his worn sweat pants and kneels again beside her.  She is gone.  He smears both his ejaculate and some of her own blood across her face, leans forward and kisses her.  He slips his tongue inside her mouth.  He loves her and is proud of the pleasure he just gave her. 

He stands, turns, and walks over to the backpack and from inside he removes a container of disinfecting wipes and puts them on the table.  Then he opens the container and pulls out several sections out of it.  He proceeds to clean his hands carefully and wipes the outside of the container.  He then reaches back inside the backpack and finds a rectangular package wrapped in cloth.   

He returns to her corpse with the package and the wipes.  He clears a portion of the tarp with the cleaners and carefully opens his parcel and places this on the clean section of tarp.  From around his neck hangs a key.  He unwraps the package and inside this is a silver box, slightly larger than a pencil box.  He takes off the necklace and with the key he opens the box.  Found inside are several small urine sample containers.  Some have a clear fluid in them while others also have some bits of flesh floating in the fluid inside of them.  He removes the lid off an empty one and places this on the fabric next to the box. 

He takes more wipes out of the container and turns to her again.  He leans forward and carefully parts her legs and with the wipes he cleans her labia and inner flesh.  He then disinfects the knife making sure that the blade and the handle are completely sanitized.  He reaches down, parts her again and carefully slices her clitoris off.  Taking his treasure and putting it inside the container of fluid, he smiles.  Gazing lovingly at his prize, he replaces the lid and puts it inside the lock box, closes and locks it.  This he wipes down again before rewrapping it.  He rises and walks back to the chair, leans over, and puts it back inside his backpack along with the wipes.

He looks at his handiwork again, sighs and says, “Oh Sandra, what have we done?”  Its time to clean up.   

On the window sill is an old boom box, that continuously plays “Oh Sandy” from the movie Grease.  Against the wall, under the window is a long counter.  It has a top made of concrete that has a smooth shiny surface.  Set into this is a large steel set of sinks with a side steel draining surface and hot and cold taps.  The entire set up is made with 2 x 4’s and plywood.  Under this sink, behind dirty curtains is a large cupboard with a locked door.  Inside, on the shelves are bottles of chemicals including bleach and a large bottle of white vinegar.  Boxes of large black garbage bags and multiple rolls of black duct tape.  A box of 5 white disposable coveralls with 2 missing are also found here with a box of large surgical gloves, the box is opened and partially used.  All of these are set on clean shelves and are organized with the labels facing outward.  This organization is methodical and purposeful. 

He leaves the room, taking his backpack with him.  When he returns, he is showered and wearing only a surgical hair net and disposable booties.  His stark white body has random black and gray nonsensical tattoos haphazardly drawn on a body that is slim and toned, devoid of all hair, he is now slick and clean.  He puts on one of the hazmat suits, goggles, surgical gloves.  He duct tapes these gloves to the sleeves of the hazmat suit.  He then sits on the chair and from his backpack he takes out and puts on black socks and clean slip-on style black tennis shoes.  The socks are taped to the legs of the suit.  He wears a protective respirator.   He’s ready to work.  He reaches into a side pocket of the backpack and takes out a set of keys.  He uses these keys to open the cupboard.

He starts humming to the music while he takes out the Vinegar pouring a large amount into a large bucket that is in the sink.  To this he adds luke warm water and a generous squirt of Palmolive soap.  He puts on dish gloves and swished the water.  Puts a large sponge in the bucket.

He turns again, and starts to wrap the body in the tarp, taking care to make sure that there is no exposure anywhere.  He uses the duct tape and seals the carcass inside.  He takes the vinegar water soap mixture and starts to wash every surface in the room, even areas that were never exposed to his activities.  He is careful to push aside all the garbage against the walls.  He wipes the outside of the body sack, turns it over and cleans it more.  The bucket is emptied in the sink.  The entire endeavor takes over an hour.  He pulls 2 extra-large 65-gallon heavy duty black plastic bags and brings it to the wrapped body.  Putting the corpses bottom half into the bag.  Good thing she was small.  The bag fits around to the shoulders.  He tapes it on and does the same in reverse.  Head to knees.  Tapes again.  Now it looks like a discarded Christmas tree in a bag.  He drags this outside about 10 feet from the door next to the woods and leaves it on the ground.  This cabin is miles from anyone and only a bare track shows any evidence of a trail.  He returns to the room.  Now he pours a sudsing ammonia into the bucket half filled with hot water.  He cleans the entire room once again.   He then distributes and displays the garbage around the room, as if it were never disturbed.  He drops the kitchen gloves and goggles on the counter by the sink.

Outside he takes a wheelbarrow and puts the ‘tree’ inside it and pushes it down a small hill.  At the bottom of the hill is an old well.  It hasn’t been used in a very long time, only 2 rows of bricks show above the ground and it is almost completely overtaken by vines and small shrubs. He takes the lid off the well and with effort drops the package down the well, closing it behind him.   This area of Montana is thick with forest.  Only those who know the area would even know of the existence of the well.  He whistles while he trudges back up the hill to the cabin.  He leans the wheelbarrow against the side of the building and goes back inside.  He untapes his wrists and removes the surgical gloves, removes the tape on his ankles and puts all inside a new garbage bag. 

Inside the makeshift kitchen he looks under the sink and takes out a bottle of orange soap, a nail brush, and a fresh sponge.  Then from the table he grabs the clear plastic sack of clothing.  He showers again making sure to scrub his entire body.  From follicle to toenail he completely removes all loose skin and any possible debris.  He steps onto a fresh disposable pad on the floor and dries himself off.  Dresses and puts on disposable booties again.  He takes all these things back to the room and puts it all away.  Tucking the clear plastic zipper bag under the sink along with the remaining chemicals.  The worn track suit that was jammed inside a plastic shopping bag is also stuffed under the sink.  The cupboard is locked and then his towel is put inside the backpack.  Sitting on the chair he puts on dress socks and shoes completing his look.  A nice black suit, white shirt and red tie.  He squirts some cologne and prepares to leave.